Together We Fall Apart
by wingedmercury
Summary: Hinata finds an unexpected ally in her husband's mistress…er, mister.
1. A Bump in the Night

Hey friends, welcome to my new fic! A few caveats:

1. This fic contains homosexuality; if you are homophobic, save yourself the trouble: read the warning and no flame me:) No worries though, absolutely no graphic sex scenes. This is a very tame 'T' rated fic.

2. This fic also contains: circus freaks, the snorting of noodles, a gay bar, ice cream binging, awkward conversations, chamomile tea, an annoying drunken Sakura, raw octopus, revolutionary and mentally unhinged orphans, pregnancy, child birth, scary NaruHina children, and a fake duck shooting contest. If you find any or all of these things offensive instead of mildly amusing, please remember that you were warned here first.

3. Last note, this fic gets a bit crackish at times. It was written during a very stressful period in my life, and that is just the kind of thing I write when I lack entertainment under extreme conditions. I think you'll like it.

I expect to update this regularly, once a week if the gods (and reviewers:) smile upon me.

And now: THE FIC! Enjoy:)

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**Together We Fall Apart**

Hinata finds an unexpected ally in her husband's mistress…er, mister.

**Chapter One: Home**

Hinata waltzes through the gates of Konoha, listening to the chirping cicadas and relishing the cool night air on her face. She has just come home a day early from a diplomatic mission, and she grins, eager to surprise her husband. Naruto will be so excited to see her! The gods know that she is excited to see him; she can't wait to share the good news.

She passes the cemetery and pauses, remembering that today is the anniversary of her mother's birthday. She is torn between visiting her mother's grave and rushing home: in the end, she bites her lip and presses onward, promising to visit her mother in the morning.

Despite her dirt-caked clothes and aching muscles, she half-skips along the silent streets. The twins are still staying over at Uncle Neji's house, so Naruto will probably be alone, shoveling ramen into his mouth while trying (and failing) to finish his paperwork without her usual help.

But when she arrives home, the house is dark. She creeps in quietly, on the chance that Naruto is sleeping. Poor thing, she muses; as the Hokage, he never gets enough rest. Hinata would hate to wake him.

She's just setting down her travel bag on the kitchen table when she hears a loud thump and a grunt—it sounds like someone has been thrown to the floor! Breath caught in her throat, Hinata crouches behind the kitchen table. It could be an assassin, she thinks darkly, readying a kunai and activating her eyes.

She blinks into the darkness, her eyes bulging with the Byakugan. But she can't see a thing—it's like peering through a heavy mist with ordinary vision.

"Genjutsu," she hisses. Naruto really is in danger. Knuckles white around the hilt of the kunai, Hinata stalks through the hallway and pauses at the base of the stairs, listening to the terrible struggle taking place on the second floor. Then, inching up the stairs while her heart beats a violent tattoo in her breast, Hinata reaches the landing and presses her back against the wall. She's close enough now that she can see past the genjutsu barrier. Focusing her doujutsu, she takes a deep breath as her vision penetrates the closed door—

She blinks in confusion. It's Sasuke. And he's naked. Is he trying to kill Naruto? But why do it without clothes?

Stunned, Hinata's eyes deactivate. Of course, she knows that Naruto and Sasuke are sparing partners—are they practicing Sumo wrestling? But why are they doing it in the bedroom?

Muffled animal grunts and growls erupt from the bedroom door, and Hinata chastises herself for just standing there when Naruto's life might be in danger. Shaking her head at her own antics—because there is no way that they could be doing _that_—just, no way—Hinata gathers her resolve, clutches her kunai in trembling hands, and focuses her Byakugan once more.

Her mouth parts in a silent cry. Her eyes deactivate of their own accord, and her kunai falls from her nerveless fingers, landing on the floor with a _thud._

As if in a dream, Hinata floats down the stairs, out of the front door, and back out into the dark night. She doesn't feel much of anything as her feet glide over the pavement. The full moon rises in the purple sky, silvering the cobblestone streets and silhouetting the buildings.

Hinata ghosts through the empty avenues until she returns to the cemetery. Her feet find the familiar way to her favorite quiet spot.

Her hands reach for the flint and incense, always kept ready by the grave. She kneels on the cold stone, feeling detached from herself, as if this is all just a bad dream happening to someone else.

The incense sputters, then the end turns red and smolders. Moonlight shines down through the smoke, making it look like a dancing silver ribbon.

"Hello, okaasan," Hinata murmurs, her voice as soft as the wind sighing through the summer grass. "I'm sorry I didn't bring flowers. I…" She trails off as tears cloud her vision. "I h-haven't told anyone yet but I—I'm p-pregnant." Hinata smiles as tears trail down her cheeks and land on the stone, shining like dew.

"I'm p-pregnant. And my h-husband is…is…" She breaks down in sobs. She can't admit it, even to her mother's grave. Even to herself. _My husband is having an affair. _

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_Thanks for reading! Please review;)_


	2. Ramen Pancakes

It's a hundred degrees outside and I'm huddling by the air conditioning, typing up chapter two. This is the first fic that I've written out entirely by hand; it's kind of fun getting to type it over again. I catch a lot of mistakes that way, and do a lot of restructuring. It's neat:)

In case you are wondering, the inspiration for this fic came from the Road to Ninja Movie: the part where Naruto is moping about Sasuke, then goes to look at naked girls to get over his man-crush. I thought to myself: gee, Naruto is pretty obsessed with Sasuke-kun. What would happen if... And the "What if?" plot bunny held a carrot out in front of my nose and beat me until I wrote this fic T-T. I hope you are enjoying it so far!

Thanks for all your reviews and pm's. Here it is, your moment of zen:

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Eventually the tears stop. Some time around midnight, curled up on her mother's grave, Hinata wipes her nose on her sleeve and stares up at the stars.

If she's honest with herself—brutally honest—she's known for a long time. Naruto is obsessed with Sasuke: he's all Naruto ever talks about when he gets home from work; he's the only one Naruto spars with on a regular basis. They've been crazy about each other since they were kids. Hinata just never realized what _kind_ of crazy…

No, that's not it. Hinata has turned a blind eye to it. For all her super-human powers of sight, she's overlooked the obvious for years. How many nights did Naruto spend with Sasuke when he said he was working late, or out on a last-minute mission? Hinata had always reasoned that he was the Hokage, and he was busy. Now, Hinata is not so sure.

Chilled, she jolts upright and hugs her knees into her chest. Maybe her imagination is just going overboard—she should talk to someone, make sure she isn't going insane. But who can she talk to? Naruto isn't just her husband. He's the Hokage. She can't tell anyone he's having an illicit affair with Sasuke, a terrorist pardoned only five years ago!

Hinata bites her lip, thinking of all the bad publicity Naruto will get—thinking what people will say about _her_—if word gets out. Marrying Naruto had finally bought her respect in this village; becoming the Hokage's wife has excused her from her duties as Hyuga heir while still maintaining a respectable station. People can't find out about this. What would her father say? She would bring shame to her family, as usual.

Collapsing back on the ground, Hinata's thoughts chase themselves like rabid dogs. She closes her eyes and massages her temples, but her anxiety does not decrease. At some point, she falls into restless dreams, and wakes up blinking into the morning sun, her back and shoulders aching.

She rises on stiff limbs, wondering if last night's events were only a bad dream.

"Mama! Mama!" a voice calls. Still groggy, Hinata thinks she is hallucinating until she sees two blond-haired, rosy-cheeked children popping into view. She smoothes down her rumpled uniform and forces herself to smile—it's the boys.

She winces when they each throw their arms around her sore back and babble loudly into her ear. It isn't until Uncle Neji rushes forward, places a silencing hand over their mouths, and asks her if she is all right that Hinata shakes herself out of her stupor.

"I'm f-fine," Hinata answers, eyes downcast. "I just got home from a mission and wanted to visit my mother." She runs a hand over the cool stones. "I wouldn't m-miss her birthday."

#

After decorating the grave with wreathes of white lilies, Hinata bades Neji goodbye before he can question her and leads the twins back home. The village is just waking up. It would be blessedly quiet if the twins weren't yammering about their new classes at the academy and arguing about who is more skilled at ninjutsu.

As they near home, Hinata's feet drag, and her heart sinks like a heavy stone in her chest. But, tugged onwards by the children, eventually she makes it to the front door. Lays her hand on the knob. Turns.

"Hinata-chaaaan! Kids!" Naruto shouts, zooming towards them and gathering them all up in a hug. Hinata blinks, stupefied, as Naruto showers her with kisses, then leads her to the kitchen table.

"I knew I sensed you coming home today," Naruto says with a wink. "I made a special breakfast. Who wants ramen pancakes?"

He had sensed her? Hinata plops down into a chair. He certainly didn't sense her last night. But then, he had been…preoccupied.

"Aw, dad, I don't want ramen pancakes!"

"Not again!"

"No complaining Minato, Jiraiya. You'll eat them and you'll like them!"

The kids continue to protest the bizarre breakfast food while Hinata stares blankly in front of her.

Everything is…the same as it always is.

"You okay, babe?" Naruto asks, his face suddenly looming close to hers.

"Ah-h. Uh-huh. Just t-tired," Hinata stammers.

"Not too tired for my breakfast specialty, I hope!" He shoves a plate of ramen pancakes in front of her. Hinata smiles weakly and takes a bite: it tastes like soggy, salty noodles mashed into flapjack form. She washes it down with some milk, which has a vague, sour taste to it.

"Everything is g-g-great," Hinata mumbles, even as her stomach gurgles in protest.

The rest of the morning passes by in a familiar blur: the kids are packed off to school, then Naruto makes a pot of coffee for himself and a cup of chamomile tea for Hinata.

"I took the morning off," Naruto says, the steam from his cup framing his face with silver. His mouth curves into a wicked grin.

"I—ah," Hinata replies, taking a sip of tea and burning her tongue. "I'm awfully t-tired."

Naruto's face falls and Hinata fiddles with the handle to her tea cup, then traces the rim with a trembling finger. "Naruto-kun?"

"Yeah babe?" is his mournful reply. He scoots his chair close to hers and rests his hand on her lower back. The contact burns.

She wants to ask him if it was real. Last night. Him, in bed, with another man. (Wait—not another man, per se. That makes _Hinata_ sound like a man. Another person, Hinata amends, her cheeks coloring.) Her chest aches at the thought of it.

"Naruto-kun, I…" She looks into his wide blue eyes and blurts out: "I'm p-p-pregnant."

His face turns from worried to ecstatic instantly. Shouting, he takes Hinata's hands and twirls her around the kitchen.

Hinata ventures a timid smile, her nightmares banished by the sunshine of Naruto's grin.

"No wonder you're tired, poor thing!" he coos, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her bridal-style to the bedroom. Hinata's smile fades when she catches sight of the bed.

Clean, crisp sheets, white and gleaming in the morning sun. Everything immaculate and in its place. The soft scent of geranium and rose wafting through the room. Hinata's smile returns.

Maybe last night was just a dream, Hinata thinks, allowing Naruto to lay her down on the bed. When he kisses her, she returns it, draws him close. She pays more attention than usual to how he touches her, how he kisses her, reveling in the familiarity, the sincerity.

How could she ever have doubted him? Pushing her misgivings aside, she melts into his embrace, relaxing for the first time in days.

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_Thanks for reading! Please review:)_


	3. Three Walls, One Armoire, and Two Sofas

Boy, what a fun weekend. Took a portrait drawing class and drew the cover to an original novel I'm working on. Spent hours making kimchee with a bunch of nice people and sang folk songs. Ate a lot of fennel and cilantro. Good times, good times. Hope you all are having a nice weekend out there in cyber space.

Thanks for all your nice reviews and pm's. They make me smile every time:)

And now, the moment you have all been waiting for:

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"I've got a late night meeting with the council, babe—I won't make it to dinner tonight," Naruto says, grabbing his coffee cup from the kitchen table.

It's been a few days since Hinata's return. She has spent the whole time assuring herself that what she saw with her Byakugan-enhanced sight was just a lie. She hasn't forgotten the "bad dream," as she calls it, but she doesn't quite let herself remember it, either. Instead, she has stayed busy with work, with preparations for the new baby.

But when Naruto mentions a late night meeting, Hinata's fears all rush back to the surface, like a wave crashing into the shore at high tide. Only years of ninja training keep her shoulders from trembling as she stands over the sink, her back turned to him. She continues to wash the dishes.

"O-okay," Hinata stammers. "I'll m-miss you."

"I'll miss you too, hon. Love you!"

"L-love you…"

The door slams shut behind him. Hinata lowers a soapy dish back into the sink, staring at the suds for what feels like a long, long time.

#

Dressed in tight black clothing and perched on the fifth floor of an administrative building, Hinata feels a bit ridiculous. She feels about ten years old again, spying on her crush from behind a tree.

Biting her lower lip, Hinata gazes up at the waning gibbous moon, rising like a ghastly ship in the night sky. She takes a deep breath. Releases it slowly. Activates her Byakugan and peers straight into Naruto's office on the fifth floor of the Hokage's tower.

It's just as Naruto has said—six people sit around a table stacked high with papers. She counts the familiar chakra signatures: Tsunade, Shikamaru, a handful of Anbu. Hinata lets out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and sags against the wall.

She's about to head home, feeling silly and sheepish, when something catches her eye. It's like a ripple in a still pool, or a stitch out of place on the hem of an expensive dress—something isn't right. Funneling more chakra into her optical nerves, Hinata scrutinizes the scene in front of her, pokes at it like a tongue prodding a sore tooth. Testing the pain. Finding its weakness.

There! The genjutsu is familiar, but Hinata doesn't let herself remember where she's seen it before, even though it was only a few days ago; even though she knows. Swallowing thickly, she weaves chakra into a thin hook and slides it across the face of the illusion, picking it apart thread by thread—

Dizzy, Hinata breaks the jutsu. She leans against the wall, lest she fall down five stories. She wishes that she was not Kurenai's student and had never learned elite genjutsu techniques. She wishes she had stayed at home like a good, stupid wife.

She doesn't know what to do. She's lost. She clings to the ledge like a spider clutching its wind-blown web. Like the genjutsu, she feels her world unraveling. Thread. By thread.

#

_Two Weeks later…_

"What does he have that I don't?" Hinata mutters to herself, laying flat on a rooftop. In a minute, the obvious answer comes to her and she blushes until her cheeks burn.

She adjusts her black clothes and returns to staring through three walls, one armoire, and two sofas. She is watching Sasuke and Naruto. Again. They are yelling at each other—though Hinata can't hear the words, it's clear. After watching (stalking) Naruto and Sasuke for two weeks now, Hinata is no longer surprised that they do more fighting than…than that _other_ thing they do. Though the fighting often leads to…_well, nevermind, _Hinata thinks, her blush redoubled.

Hinata can't figure out why they argue all the time. If they dislike each other so much, why spend so much time together? Hinata's countenance darkens. They see each other three times a week, but most of the time, they're miserable!

As if to prove her thoughts, at that moment Sasuke chucks a lamp at Naruto's head, who neatly dodges and throws a kunai at his assailant in turn.

Hinata deactivates her Byakugan. She can't watch this anymore. Outside, everything is quiet; a passerby wouldn't be able to hear a single shout or see an angry fist. But even without her Byakugan, Hinata can see it unfolding in her mind's eye—it's always the same with them.

First, Sasuke will sulk. Then Naruto will insult him to cheer him up. Either Sasuke will smirk, or he'll snarl and hurl a weapon—or in this case, furniture—at Naruto.

From there, there are only two possible outcomes:

One of them will storm out of the house, cradling a bruise (and possibly bruised pride), while the other will pout, or punch a wall, or scream inside the silent genjutsu.

Two: one of them will grab the other's hair and pull them in for a kiss—and another battle will start. One that Hinata does _not_ need to watch, thank you very much.

Bulging belly pressed to the rooftop, Hinata waits to see what the outcome will be this time. To her relief, Naruto stomps out of the house and slams the door behind him, his teeth bared in a feral grimace. He has a black eye and a nasty looking gash on his arm.

"Unfeeling bastard," Naruto mutters. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and hobbles down the street. Hinata winces, wanting to help him, to ease his pain—but she does not move. She lies in silence until Naruto disappears down the street.

She turns her gaze to Sasuke who sits, hunched, by the window. His head is bowed. His hands are balled into shaking fists. Despite herself, Hinata feels sorry for him—sorry for Naruto and Sasuke both. Two war-orphaned children. Unloved. Misunderstood. Turning to each other to find scraps of comfort, or to let out pent up aggression.

With a start, Hinata realizes that she's not angry at Sasuke. Instead, she just feels…sad. Heavy. Like roiling storm clouds that never rain but continue to shroud the village on a summer night.

Before she can stop herself, she leaps down from the rooftop, jogs up to Sasuke's steps, and rings the doorbell.

She thinks about running away.

She turns to sprint down the street—

"What the hell do you—oh. Er. It's…you." Sasuke's angry shout ends in a confused yet annoyed mutter.

Hinata blinks up at him, standing as still and silent as a startled deer, fighting the urge to flee. His black eyes are like deep wells, Hinata thinks, peering up at him. And deep wells are dangerous: they hide secrets. You can fall into them and be swallowed by the darkness.

Hinata gulps, wiping her clammy palms on her pants. "C-can I…come in? P-please," she adds, belatedly.

Without blinking or saying a word, Sasuke steps back. For a moment, she thinks Sasuke might slam the door in her face—a part of her hopes that he will—but the door stays open. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Hinata tip-toes inside…

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_Aw yeah, shit is going to hit the fan. Will update next weekend, universe willing! In the meantime, thanks for reading, and please review:)_


	4. Tomorrow is t-t-tuesday

Sorry I didn't update last week; editing and posting the latest chapter of "The Cursed Geisha" took four hours and all of my fanfic braincells T-T Thanks for all your nice pm's and reviews! Without further ado, here is the the fourth chapter. Enjoy!

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Chapter Four: Tomorrow is T-t-tuesday

_Without blinking or saying a word, Sasuke steps back. For a moment, she thinks Sasuke might slam the door in her face—a part of her hopes that he will—but the door stays open. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Hinata tip-toes inside…_

Shuffling after Sasuke, Hinata takes in the sorry state of his apartment: kunai and shuriken marks score the walls; blood, still red and wet, speckles the floor. Gingerly, Hinata steps over shards of a shattered vase, wishing she was wearing boots instead of sandals.

"Sorry about the mess," Sasuke mutters, without turning around. "I…" He trails off, and without further explanation, leads her into the kitchen, neatly bypassing the living room—the epicenter of chaos, where furniture is ripped and overturned, and wallpaper peels like sunburnt skin. Hinata tries not to look.

Sasuke's chair scrapes the floor loudly as he sits down. She scurries to sit across from him at the kitchen table, then stares down at her hands, at a loss for words.

The truth is, she's always been a bit afraid of Sasuke. Though she's invited him over to dinner many times for Naruto's sake, she's relieved when he always declines. It's not that she dislikes him, or blames him for all the horrible things that have happened to him.

She just doesn't trust him.

The silence draws out between them, growing more pronounced by the moment. Beads of sweat drip down Hinata's back, and her forehead burns as if from fever.

Finally, when she can stand the silence no longer, she squeaks, "T-t-tea?"

Sasuke gives her a sideways look. "What?"

"I'd l-l-like s-some t-t-tea," she stammers, her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. "P-please."

"Oh. Tea. Tea," Sasuke repeats, rising in one swift motion and putting the kettle on to boil. "Which kind…?"

"Anything decaf, please," Hinata replies, slowly, so that she will not stutter. "Caffeine is bad for the b-baby."

Sasuke's eyes flicker to her stomach, then stare resolutely at the kettle again. "You're…oh. I didn't know. Congratulations. I guess…" His low, rasping reply sounds as broken as the vase in the hallway. Hinata heaves an inaudible sigh. Is he feeling guilty? Or jealous? Or…?

Silence descends again, less awkward but more pensive. The kettle whistles, and steam fogs the window.

"So…" Sasuke begins as he pours Hinata a cup of mint tea. "What are you doing out so late? The Idiot will worry about you."

Hinata's brows furrow. "The Idiot?" She takes the cup from Sasuke and cradles it in her hands.

Sasuke smirks. "Na-ru-to."

"Oh." Hinata blushes. "I g-guess that would be i-ironic." Suddenly very self-conscious, Hinata sips her tea, just to have something to do, but the water is too hot. She burns her tongue.

"That…would be ironic," Sasuke replies, slowly. It's not a joke. He's not smiling. No, it looks more like he is being pressed between stones. His face has a green tint to it.

"Do you love him?" Hinata blurts out. Her blush intensifies. "I m-mean, th-that is t-to s-s-say—"

"What kind of stupid question is—" Sasuke snarls, but he breaks off abruptly when he meets her wide, guileless eyes. She's like a child asking a question along the lines of 'Where do babies come from?' or 'Where do we go when we die?' Questions that adults don't know the answers to, though they pretend like they do.

Hinata's gaze drifts down to the table top. She traces the grains of wood with an unsteady finger. "I w-would j-just l-like t-to know," Hinata whispers. She peers up at his stricken face, waiting in the tortured silence for his reply.

"I can't answer that," Sasuke replies at last, but his voice lacks conviction.

"Do you love m-my h-hus… Do you love Naruto?" Hinata repeats, her voice soft yet cutting.

Hinata meets Sasuke's gaze. In his pale face, his eyes look like dark pits. He mutters something under his breath, but Hinata can't hear him.

"What was that?" Hianta asks, feeling strangely calm and detached.

"Tch. I—I don't hate him," Sasuke snaps, pushing his chair back and rising to stare out of the window. He crosses his arms and scowls. "I hate most people. But not him. Most of the time…"

Hinata clears her throat. "So you l-love him."

No response.

Hinata sighs and rests her forehead in her hands. "I know," is all she says.

"I _know_ you know," Sasuke growls, still staring intently at the wall.

"I…" Hinata rubs her temples. Takes a deep breath. "Tomorrow is T-t-tuesday."

"I _know_ that tomorrow is Tuesday!" Sasuke snarls, whirling around and slamming his hands down on the table. Hinata jumps in her seat, but forces herself to stay calm. She takes another deep breath. Slowly, as if explaining something to a child who hasn't had his nap yet, Hinata says, "Tuesdays are family dinner nights. Do you like spaghetti?"

Sasuke grates his teeth. "Yes, I like spaghetti, but I don't understand why you're—"

"So you'll join us then. For d-dinner."

Sasuke opens his mouth, but no words come out.

"It's not a question," Hinata clarifies.

"Oh." Sasuke's voice is a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you for the tea," Hinata says, standing up so suddenly she jostles the table. Her cup wobbles, then spills. Mint tea rains down onto the floor. Her cheeks burning, she turns to leave, but Sasuke's voice makes her pause.

"Are you…? You're not… Are you sure—"

"I'm sure," Hinata interjects. She doesn't turn around. "We'll see you tomorrow. At six." And before she says or does anything else to embarrass herself, she practically flies out of Sasuke's kitchen, stumbles over the broken glass in the hall, and hurls herself out of the door, slamming it behind her in her haste to flee.

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_Thanks for reading! Please review;)_


	5. Uncle Sasuke

A word of advice: Never, ever, EVER buy discounted meat. Seriously. I've been sick like you wouldn't believe for days with salmonella food poisoning. Posting this fanfic and binge-watching One Piece has been the most productive thing I've done for a long time. Gah.

Never buy discounted meat. Just...don't. :(

Anyway, thanks for all your nice reviews. Hope you enjoy the next chappy! It's longer this time, and typing it up has been the highlight of my day:)

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_Chapter Five: Uncle Sasuke_

"I was at S-sasuke's h-house," is Hinata's quavering answer. Naruto stops his frantic pacing to gawk at her.

"Sasuke's house? What in the world were you doing at _Sasuke's_ house?"

"H-having t-t-tea," Hinata stammers. She avoids Naruto's incredulous stare and turns back to the mirror to brush her hair. She's not sure how it has gotten so tangled, but she finds the act of brushing it out oddly soothing at a time like this.

"Tea?" Naruto squawks. "Tea! At this hour! Does the Bastard even _like_ tea?"

Hinata pauses mid-brushstroke. "The Bastard?"

"Sasuke," Naruto hisses through partially clenched teeth.

"Oh." Hinata continues to brush out her hair. "I think he likes tea… Why else would he drink it?"

Naruto lets out a disgruntled sigh and plops down on the bed. "So… What did you guys…you know…talk about?"

Hinata yanks too hard on a tangle and rips out a clump of knots. She grimaces. "I think you know," she answers darkly. Silence descends. Hinata can practically hear the gears turning in Naruto's head.

"Um… So what were you guys talking about?"

"You just asked me that."

"But you didn't answer my question!" he shouts. Hinata meets his gaze in the mirror and shoots him a pained look. "Sorry," Naruto mutters, sliding down from the bed to the floor. He looks like a dog who's just been kicked.

Hinata inhales sharply and places her brush down on the counter with a loud _clack_. "Naruto…I know. About Sasuke."

"You know _what_ about Sasuke?" he whines.

She turns to face him, trying not to look incredulous and failing. She muses that at this point, most women would be shouting, or crying, or even throwing things. Not her. She mostly feels displaced, suspended like a berry bobbing in green Jello; like a leaf caught in a river bend, unable to float down.

"Naruto-kun," she murmurs, twisting the folds of her nightgown in shaking hands, "I don't know where Sasuke learned that genjutsu, but it's…it's not one hundred percent Byakugan proof."

"Genjutsu?" he answers hoarsely.

Hinata's eyes meet his. Her gaze says it all.

Tears well up in Naruto's eyes, and it is like storm clouds blotting out the sun. Before he can say anything, Hinata blurts out:

"I invited him over for dinner. T-t-tomorrow."

Naruto's mouth parts, then snaps shut, then gapes open again. He looks like a landed fish trying to breathe. "You what?" he finally rasps.

Hinata bites her bottom lip, then scoots down from her chair and kneels on the floor in front of him. She takes his hand in hers. "I invited him over for dinner," Hinata repeats, slowly, enunciating every word.

"Then you're not…mad?" he croaks, tears running in rivulets down his cheeks.

"I'm…" Hinata pauses. In truth, she doesn't really know _how_ she feels. "I'm undecided," she says at last, looking down at their joined hands. "But Naruto-kun…"

"Yeah?" he whispers.

"Do you—do you still l-love me?" she squeaks, her throat constricting. She squeezes her eyes shut against the tears.

Naruto throws his arms around her and bawls, kissing her face. Hot tears fall onto her cheeks, but she can't tell whose they are. He nuzzles close to her ear and babbles _yes, yes, yes,_ over and over again, like a mantra, and Hinata sways, like a tree bending in a storm. She feels like she might snap in half.

That night, he sleeps with his arms wrapped tightly around her, his hands curled on her protruding belly, his head resting on her shoulder. He snores in her ear, sleeping soundly, while Hinata stares at the moonlight rippling on the white curtains.

#

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Naruto asks, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Do you think I've added too much salt?" Hinata replies, stirring the tomato sauce.

"Um…"

"Oh. You mean making pasta sauce in the first place? I thought Sasuke-san liked tomatoes…"

Naruto pinches the bridge of his nose. "Um… I meant Sasuke. Coming here. For dinner." He returns to pacing the kitchen floor while Hinata keeps her gaze fixed on the bubbling pot.

"You really think he'll show up, Hinata-chan?"

Hinata nods.

"Do you think it will be…I don't know…weird?"

She shrugs and continues to stir.

"Do you—"

"Please get out of the kitchen, Naruto-kun," Hinata interjects, her voice quiet but sharp as a knife. "I can't cook under these conditions."

Naruto swallows thickly, nods, and gusts out of the kitchen like a whirlwind.

Hinata exhales hotly and tastes the tomato sauce.

She winces.

There's too much salt. She'll have to add more tomatoes.

"Mama? Paaaaapa!"

"We're hoooooome!"

Like twin tornadoes, the children _swoosh_ into the house, dropping schoolbooks and kunai alike on the carpet. Their sandals leave muddy prints on the kitchen floor as they waltz in, pilfering apples from the fruit bowl. _Boys, _Hinata thinks; _I'm surrounded by boys._ She heaves an inaudible sigh, suddenly feeling bone tired. She stirs the sauce with one hand while the other rests on her belly. What if the next one is a girl? She smiles softly, thinking of names Naruto might like…

"I can belch the alphabet better than you!" taunts Minato.

"Oh yeah? Well_ I _ can belch the alphabet backwards, so _there,_" Jiraiya boasts.

Hinata winces as a cacophony of burps erupts from her children. She whirls around and, spoon in hand, shoos them out of the kitchen.

"R-really," she stammers, flustered beyond all measure, "how am I supposed to c-cook with all this r-racket?" She exhales sharply and wipes her clammy brow with her sleeve. What was she doing before she was interrupted? She taps her forehead. She was supposed to add something to the sauce—but what?

Just then, the doorbell rings. Sheer terror floods her, banishing all thought from her mind. She gulps. Switching off the stove, she scurries into the living room, only to find the twins are pummeling each other for the right to open the door. Naruto stands over them, shouting for them to stop. They do not stop. The doorbell rings again.

Hinata darts forward like a fish being chased by a shark, sidestepping her squabbling children and jerking the door open. She ignores the sensation that her heart is trying to escape her chest with the help of a jackhammer.

"Aw, I wanted to open it!" squeals Jiraiya.

Minato punches him in the arm. "Cheater!"

"Hush now," Hinata orders, trying to hide the panic in her voice. She clears her throat and faces her guest. "S-sasuke-san," she says, cursing her recalcitrant stutter. "C-come i-in."

Sasuke eyes the children warily, as if they are untrained dogs that might bite and communicate infectious disease.

"Hey kids, you've met Uncle Sasuke before, haven't you?" Naruto bellows with forced cheerfulness. Hinata winces at the title of "uncle" but holds her tongue.

Sasuke waves his hand in lackluster greeting.

"Yeah, we've met him," grumbles Jiraiya.

"_Uncle_ Sasuke? Is he related to you, papa?" Minato asks, too perceptive for his own good. "You don't look alike…"

"Wh-what he m-meant to s-say is that he and Sasuke are…um…ah… Friends! S-s-special friends! _Not_ brothers. Definitely not b-brothers," Hinata answers, because dear Kami-sama, she doesn't want the boys to think that _brothers_ do things like _that._ Her cheeks burn at the very thought.

The kids don't really care though. They trot into the living room and go back to their belching contest while the adults hover in the doorway. The tense silence is crushing.

"Um…um…" Hinata begins, at a total loss. She's noticing how Sasuke and Naruto are refusing to even glance at each other. Sasuke looks as impassive as a statue carved of ice, while Naruto looks like a melting ice cube. Hinata clasps her hands behind her back, her knuckles going white.

"P-p-please c-come in," she manages at last. She wonders if she should add, _I'm glad you made it, _or maybe _thank you for coming,_ but she can't quite make herself say it.

She wonders, briefly, if Naruto had been right—maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. But it's too late now. It's like being stuck on a roller-coaster as it crests the first hill: there's no escape. Clenching her hands together so she doesn't tremble, Hinata leads the way to the living room…

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_Thanks for reading and please, review;)_


	6. The Devil is in the Details

Chapter Six: The Devil is in the Details

_She wonders, briefly, if Naruto had been right—maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. But it's too late now. It's like being stuck on a roller-coaster as it crests the first hill: there's no escape. Clenching her hands together so she doesn't tremble, Hinata leads the way to the living room…_

She gestures for Naruto and Sasuke to sit down. They do not. At first, Hinata thinks that maybe they didn't see her. Then, realization dawns:

There is a couch that seats two and an armchair that seats one. They can't figure out where to go—they certainly can't sit together on the couch. And yet, if Hinata and Naruto were to take the sofa, Sasuke would be left out. And Hinata doesn't want to sit next to Sasuke. The thought makes her skin crawl.

The silence draws out. It is beyond awkward.

"You're probably h-h-hungry," Hinata gushes. "Let's just go to the dinning room?"

"Great idea!" Naruto answers too loudly. He is about to grab Sasuke's arm, but catches himself at the last minute, smiles—though it is more like the baring of teeth—and makes a beeline for the dinning room. Hinata chews her lower lip.

"Tch. I should leave," Sasuke says, stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning towards the door.

"No." Hinata catches his elbow. "Please? Stay…"

Sasuke shoots her an inscrutable look, shakes her off, and nods grimly. Without another word, he follows her into the dinning room.

Naruto is already seated at the head of the table, talking animatedly to children about something inane. Though he is shouting, Hinata can't make out the words—she's too shocked by the fact that she hasn't thought of where to seat Sasuke at the table.

The devil truly is in the details.

Guts clenched in anxiety, Hinata acts on instinct. She sits at Naruto's right and motions for Sasuke to sit at his left. Sasuke does so, slowly, then stares pointedly at the table. Even the children stop their chattering. There is a moment of silence.

"Oh," Hinata says, finally coming back to earth. "The f-f-food!" She scrambles into the kitchen, feeling like she might jump out of her skin at any second.

What is she hoping to accomplish with this dinner? she wonders as she searches for oven mitts. What is she _doing?_

It doesn't matter now, Hinata thinks glumly. She's like a freight train going downhill with broken breaks—she can't stop. To think, only a few hours ago Hinata had rehearsed what she wanted to say. She had imagined this all going so smoothly. Now, lines forgotten, she feels like an actor who has failed to learn the script: boiling under the stage lights in tense silence, waiting for the tomatoes to be chucked at her.

Wait—tomatoes. Tomatoes! She forgot to add more tomatoes to the sauce! It's too late now. They're all waiting for her. Cursing her lack of hors d'oeuvres, Hinata stumbles out of the kitchen, bowl of pasta and red sauce in hand. She prays that the spaghetti will absorb the extra salt.

"Hinata is a great cook!" Naruto beams as she dishes out the food. Her cheeks color at the praise and her lips twitch into a smile.

"Tch. You're just saying that because she makes noodles all the time," Sasuke mutters.

"What's wrong with noodles?" Naruto counters hotly. The children giggle at the far end of the table.

"Nothing. If you don't mind your brain turning into noodles," Sasuke shoots back.

By now, Hinata's face is as red as the damned tomato sauce. "H-how d-do you kn-know what I make for d-dinner if this is your f-first time h-here, Sasuke-san?" Hinata stammers. Coming from anyone else, it would be a cold rebuke; from Hinata, it is just the quiet, embarrassing truth.

Sasuke frowns. "The Idiot—er, Naruto, tells me." He shrugs.

"That's f-funny," Hinata replies, "Naruto never t-tells me much about y-you."

Dead silence.

"Wow Hinata, great noodles!" Naruto mumbles around a mouthful of spaghetti. Sauce shots from his mouth and speckles the white tablecloth.

"Ew dad, gross," moans Minato.

Jiraiya chortles until a snot-covered noodle dangles from his nose and wiggles like a worm.

"Mom," grouses Minato, impervious to Jiraiya's giggle-fit, "this is too salty—"

"You'll e-eat it and y-you'll l-like it," Hinata interjects. Something about her panicked tone hushes Minato. With sad eyes, he pokes and prods and pushes his noodles around on his plate until they disintegrate into a soupy, noodly mush.

Meanwhile, Sasuke takes bite after meticulous mincing bite, his face pinched, while Naruto continues to shovel noodles down his throat. Hinata heaves an inaudible sigh. Twirls her fork. Takes a tremulous bite.

It is salty to the point of inedible. She winces and pushes her plate away.

"Wh-who wants ice cream?" Hinata calls, feigning a bright smile.

"Me!"

"Me!"

"Meeeee!"

"Tch. I can't stand sweets."

"Great! Five bowls of ice cream, coming right up," Hinata says, gathering up the plates and scurrying into the kitchen. She opens the freezer.

They are out of ice cream.

"Kids?" Hinata calls. "I have a mission for you."

"Ooh, ooh, does it involve sharp pointy objects?" shouts Jiraiya.

"It's probably something la-ame," grumbles Minato. All the same, they tumble into the kitchen and look at her expectantly.

"Here's some money," Hinata says, pulling out an excessive amount of cash from her wallet. "Please go to the corner store and buy some ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream. Okay?"

By the time she says "okay," both the boys and her money are gone. Ninja children are like that, Hinata thinks wryly. Exhaling sharply, she puts the kettle on to boil. Arranges tea cups on a tray. Then, with the slow steps of a condemned woman ascending the gallows, she walks back towards the dinning room.

"Ugh," Naruto moans, "I don't feel so well." He chugs his water, drains his glass, then reaches for Sasuke's water.

"Idiot," Sasuke mutters. "You ate too quickly."

Hinata hovers by the doorway, just watching them and listening to them squabble. Like children, she thinks, smiling wistfully.

"Asshole, how come you're not sick?" Naruto whines. "You finished your plate too!"

"Tch. I ate slowly."

Naruto stares at him intently. "Unless…unless you feel just as queasy as me and you're not showing it." He snaps his fingers under Sasuke's nose. "That's it!"

"I'm not sick," Sasuke snarls, shoving Naruto's hand away. "I'm _fine._"

"Sick!"

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Am not. Shut up."

"Ha! I'm right!"

"_Shut up!"_

Unseen, Hinata darts back into the kitchen where the pot is whistling. Pours the hot water over chamomile flowers and mint. Inhales the aroma. Feeling calmer, she balances the tray and glides into the dinning room—

And nearly collides with a flailing limb, though who's limb it is, she is not sure. Naruto and Sasuke are fighting with ninja speed. It's only with her own ninja skills that she is able to sidestep them without jostling her tray. She plops down in her seat. Pours herself a cup of tea. Sits. Sips. Sighs.

If she's honest with herself, she's jealous—there is a casual familiarity between Naruto and Sasuke that she lacks with her husband. But it's also a bit puerile—they remind her of her own bickering children, and it is both endearing and annoying. She rests her elbows on the table and cups her chin in her hands. The boys—because that's what they are—boys—pull apart and glare at each other. Before they can start fighting again, Hinata asks in a soft but clear voice:

"T-tea?"

That startles them back to reality. Sheepish (Naruto) and impassive (Sasuke), both take their spots at the table, not daring to meet Hinata's soft, sad gaze.

Hinata takes another sip of tea, just to have something to do. She has so much she wants to say, and no idea where to start…

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review:)_


	7. The Art of Deception

Hey friends, welcome back! Thanks for all your nice words of encouragement.

Just a note, may have to skip the update next week-my inlaws are in town! Eeek! But will update the weekend after. :D

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Chapter Seven: The Art of Deception

_Hinata takes another sip of tea, just to have something to do. She has so much she wants to say, and no idea of where to start…_

"So…" Hinata says at last, once the tea is poured, "do you—"

"Babe, I can explain," Naruto blurts out. "Sasuke and I are—" He can't finish; Sasuke elbows him in the gut.

"Ooooh," he moans," I think I might barf."

Hinata blinks at them. "I j-just wanted to know if you'd like h-honey." She glides the honey pot across the table. No one takes it. She sighs.

"I can explain," Naruto begins again, but this time, Hinata cuts him off.

"You don't need to. The only th-thing I w-want to know is…" She takes a deep breath. Releases it slowly. "How long have you been keeping this from me?"

There is a sharp pause before Naruto begins his tale of woe, spoken with dewy eyes, while Sasuke sits still and impassive as stone beside him.

After the war, he and Sasuke had renewed their friendship, after their own fashion, while contending for the title of Hokage. It was after Naruto's engagement to Hinata that the trouble with Sasuke began: Sakura was pursuing Sasuke more earnestly at the time, and the more she pushed, the more belligerent Sasuke became. Until Sasuke hit Sakura.

Any ninja can take a slap to the face. But Sakura and Sasuke had a history. He had tried to kill her, more than once. In Naruto's mind, it was unforgivable, and he confronted Sasuke about it. Sasuke retorted that he didn't care what Naruto or Sakura thought about him; he didn't care about anyone.

That's when Naruto lost it and attacked, all snarls and fists and teeth, and Sasuke fought back with equal passion.

"Then somehow…somewhere…it became something else," Naruto mumbles, looking down at this hands.

Hinata is silent. She gazes wistfully out of the dark window, remembering when they had come home victorious from the war; how Naruto and Sasuke had fought viciously for the title of Hokage.

As a high-ranking Hyuga (for whatever _that_ was worth) she had attended the counsel meetings weighing the two contenders.

"The problem with Naruto," Sasuke had drawled, "is that he has no manners. No training in political subtlety."

Naruto had ground his teeth, but before he could respond, Tsunade chimed in: "So I suppose attacking all five Kage at a summit and assassinating Konoha's acting Hokage shows that _you_ have manners and political subtlety?"

"Don't say that," Naruto interceded, voice gruff and eyes flashing. "That's all in the past, granny."

The meeting progressed in a similar pattern—the more Sasuke strengthened his position, the more Naruto had weakened his own. After the meeting, everyone else had left. Naruto sat on the steps to the Hokage's Tower, hunched over as if wounded, while Hinata watched from afar. Unable to bear it, she had forced herself to approach him.

"N-N-Naruto-kun?"

At first, he didn't respond. He continued to sit, head bowed, shoulders slumped. The full moon crested the tower and silvered his profile, making him look even more handsome. Hinata gulped and, before she could stop herself, stood firmly in front of Naruto.

"I c-can help you become H-Hokage," she squeaked.

"There's no help for me," Naruto replied mournfully, not meeting her gaze. "But thanks, anyway…"

Hinata bit her lip. Concern outweighing her shyness, she placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. She reminded herself that she and Naruto had fought zombies, Zetsu clones, and the Juubi side-by-side: there was no need to feel flustered.

"I was raised to be heir to the Hyuga," Hinata explained softly. "I know how politics work. And manners."

"So you don't think I have manners, either," Naruto replied, his head sinking even lower.

"N-N-No!" Hinata protested. "It's just—p-politics are a game—like learning a new jutsu. It just takes p-p-practice." She hoped she was explaining it right.

"…Like a new jutsu," Naruto mused, finally meeting her gaze. Hinata almost died of happiness right there. "And you can teach me?"

Too tongue-tied to respond, Hinata smiled weakly and nodded.

Naruto leapt off the landing with a grin. "Oh boy! Hinata-chan, you're so awesome!"

"Th-th-thanks," she stammered, steadying herself on the railing before she fell over.

"This is going to be great! Hey Hinata-chan—I mean, Hinata-_sensei_—you want to get some ramen because I'm like _totally_ starving, believe it!"

Woozy, Hinata gripped the railing tighter and forced herself to take a deep breath. "Naruto-kun, when you ask a lady to d-dine, you say, "Excuse me madam, but would you honor me with your presence at dinner?" At Naruto's blank expression, Hinata whispered, "It's part of t-training."

"Training? Ooooh, training. I get it… Er, Hinata-chan, want to go get some honorable ramen…please?"

Hinata had laughed at that until hot tears had rolled down her cheeks. When she recovered, she showed Naruto how to properly escort a lady while walking down the street. Hand tucked into Naruto's elbow as he chattered away, Hinata was starry-eyed and overflowing with joy.

With her coaching, Naruto made a fine candidate. Then, their engagement had sealed the deal: Konoha had never had an unmarried Hokage before, and the fact that Sasuke was single—among all the other strikes against him—propelled Naruto into office.

Hinata smiles wistfully as the memory fades. Those were the days, she thinks. She had felt so useful, then.

Coming back to the present, Hinata realizes that she has been quiet a long time. She turns to regard Sasuke and Naruto, sitting in tortured silence. No one meets her gaze.

She shakes her head, staring down at the table. To think, the whole time Naruto was campaigning, he was literally sleeping with the enemy—it's something right out of Jiraiya-sensei's lewd novels. Hinata heaves a weary sigh, props her elbows on the table, and rests her chin in her hands. She peers at Naruto and Sasuke.

"Just—just figure out a better g-genjutsu," Hinata whispers. "If I can break it, then so can other Hyuga."

Both Naruto and Sasuke's heads snap up. Their expressions would be almost comical, if Hinata didn't feel so miserable.

"You can't mean—you—" Sasuke sputters, then stops abruptly, at a loss for words. It's the first time he's spoken in a long time.

"If Naruto's mistress—er…um…um…I mean, m-m-m-mister is d-discovered," Hinata stammers, "it will be the end of his p-political career." Hinata looks away from them and down at her reflection in her teacup. Distorted in the steaming water, Hinata thinks her face looks bloated, her eyes too large and too sad, like a fish caught on a hook.

Sasuke stands abruptly, his eyes flashing. "But what about _you_?" he demands, smacking the table with a fist. He opens his mouth to say more, but Naruto slaps a hand on his arm to stall him.

"I'll be f-f-fine," Hinata mumbles, eyes downcast, fingers clenched together. She takes a deep breath, forces herself to look them both in the eye. "Sasuke-san, y-you m-mean everything to Naruto-kun. I won't t-take that away from him."

Sasuke falls back into his chair, stunned. In the ensuing silence, it occurs to Hinata that Naruto and Sasuke are very much alike: the former needs everyone to adore him, while the latter pushes everyone away, out of fear, or guilt, or shame, Hinata isn't sure. At their core, they are both wounded, and alone.

She isn't enough to fill that void in Naruto. He needs Sasuke. They're good for each other, Hinata tells herself; she convinces herself that she is happy that everything is out in the open now.

Sasuke looks like he is about to protest, but just then the children burst in through the door. Their faces are covered in ice cream smudges; they do not carry any grocery bags.

"Sorry," burps Jiraiya, "they were out."

"We're just going to bed now," says Minato, smiling brightly, his teeth stained with chocolate.

Hinata chuckles despite herself. Ninja children. They can hit the bulls-eye every time at kunai practice, but they still haven't mastered the art of deception. At that thought, Hinata's smile dies and her eyes well up with tears.

She hopes her boys never grow up. That they never lie to her—really lie, like grown-ups do.

"I'm leaving," Sasuke says, his quiet voice almost drowned out by the sharp scrape of his chair.

Without another word, he stomps off towards the door. Hinata's brow furrows. Is Sasuke angry, of all things? Hasn't she given them everything they wanted?

"Thanks for coming to dinner," Hinata calls after him, but the words sound hollow, even to her.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review;)_


	8. Let'sss Get Drunk!

Nyaaaa, I'm back! Enjoy the update:)

* * *

Chapter Eight: _Let'sss Get Drunk!_

"I'm—ah—going to a late night meeting," Naruto says, leaning against the kitchen archway. He's staring down at the floor.

Hinata's knife hovers over the vegetables she had been chopping. Her hands tremble. She lays the knife down with a soft _clack_.

"O-oh. Right. S-see you, then." Hinata curses her quavering voice. Then Naruto's arms are around her, squeezing her too tightly. He places a quick kiss on her cheek. It sears her.

"I don't have to go…if you don't want me to."

She swallows thickly and shakes her head. "Just g-go," she whispers. _Don't make this harder than it already is,_ she adds silently. Her body goes rigid. His hands fall away. He stands there for a long, silent moment, unsure of what to do. He brushes the side of her cheek with a calloused finger then leaves, his footsteps muffled as he shuffles to the door. He pauses. The air is tense.

The door creeks open, closes with a soft thud. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall seems to thunder in the silence.

Hinata sniffles, brushes the tears out of her eyes. Continues to chop vegetables.

She tells herself it will get easier with time.

She doesn't believe it.

#

But as the days and then weeks pass, and as Hinata's belly bulges, things seem to return to normal. The only difference is that Naruto is even more affectionate: he buys her flowers and useless, endearing gifts like porcelain figurines and pinwheels, even when it's not a special occasion—just because. She ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach and smiles at the teddy bear clutching a plush heart, the formulaic greeting card. She calls them wonderful and stashes them in a box in the closet under her shoes.

And on the days when Naruto is not present, Hinata hires a babysitter and goes out, too.

"It'sss too bad you can't drink, sssister," Sakura slurs, downing another glass of sake and slamming it on the table.

"Eh, Forehead? That's a stupid thing to say," Ino whines, swirling her martini with a pink umbrella. "It's like you're saying it's too bad she's _pregnant_."

Hinata smiles tautly and clutches her mug of apple cider while Sakura and Ino fling familiar insults at each other. It's been a long time since Hinata's gone out this much—usually she is a homebody enjoying the quiet. Only these days, the quiet in her house has turned to stony silence. Hinata sighs into her drink and fragrant cinnamon steam curtains her face.

Ino slaps Hinata on the back and Hinata almost spills her drink. "So, Hinata-chaaan, what do you want to do tonight?"

"Um… Um… I don't know, Ino-san. Whatever you would like to do would be fine with me…"

"Let'sss get drunk!" Sakura chimes.

Ino rolls her eyes. "You're already drunk, moron."

"Hey—"

"And anyway," Ino mutters, cutting Sakura off, "we're trying to think of something that would be fun for Hi-na-ta," Ino concludes, poking Sakura's forehead three times for every syllable of Hinata's name.

"Lay off, Pig," Sakura grouses, slapping Ino's hand away. "Let'sss sssee…sssomething fun… Oh, I know, I know!" she shouts, hitting the table with her fist. Hinata lifts her drink before it wobbles off the counter. "Sssai told me, there'ss a new dance club in town—and I hear that Sssasuke-kun goes there," Sakura says in a slurred sing-song voice.

Before Hinata can tell them that pregnant women, between their sore feet and aching backs, don't really like to dance, Ino takes one arm and Sakura grabs the other. They waltz down the street with Hinata captive between them to where dance music blares out of flashing, multicolored windows. It's so loud, Hinata swears her clenched teeth are vibrating and her ears are breaking, even though she's standing _outside_.

"I-I d-don't th-think—" Hinata begins. It's no use. She is being dragged inside.

The stench of unwashed bodies assaults her nose. "Music" hammers her skull and strobe lights dazzle her eyes. They pass by a group smoking cigarettes and Hinata wheezes.

"Isn't this awesssome?" Sakura shrieks.

Hinata smiles weakly. Dazed, she is lead to a seat at the bar, like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

"Let'sss get drunk!" Sakura bellows.

Hinata pretends not to hear her and turns to look around the room. She doesn't recognize anyone—this must be a civilian bar. She twiddles her thumbs as she peers through the flashing darkness, feeling much like a deer standing still in the middle of the forest, sensing but not seeing the predators lurking in the bushes.

"Well hello, Ugly, Dumb Blonde, Stutterer," chirps a sugary voice. Hinata swivels around in her chair—it is Sai. He has a huge smile plastered on his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Sssai, buy me a drink!" Sakura calls.

Sai's smile doesn't falter. "Sure. When you lose twenty pounds. Joke, joke!" he protests as Sakura lunges for him. Ino restrains her inebriated friend.

"Jerk," Ino seethes.

"Hey now, it's all in the name of fun. I read that in a book once that…"

Hinata edges away from her friends, and the sound of Sai's voice is drowned out by the thumping music. She hates when people bicker, but she hates it even more when it's her friends fighting over something pointless. Her head is pounding from the noise, her mouth is dry, and her eyes are burning from the smoke.

She is going home.

She tries her best to weave through the gyrating bodies, but she is not very assertive. Before too long, she is caught like a leaf in a whirlpool and somehow, instead of getting closer to the door, she drifts farther and farther away.

How embarrassing, Hinata thinks, her cheeks flaming. She's a ninja for goodness sake, not some helpless damsel in distress. Determined to escape, Hinata balls her hands into fists and activates her Byakugan.

There! With her three-hundred-and-sixty degree vision, it is clear that if she hangs left, then right, she will reach the exit and escape. Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, Hinata marches forward—

Then stops suddenly. A pair of sweaty dancers, both men, almost run her over, but Hinata overcomes her shock at the last minute and side-steps them. She rubs her eyes, then sweeps her gaze through the room one more time. She comes to two starling conclusions:

One. Everyone in this room, besides herself and the friends she came in with, is a man. It is…unexpected.

Two. She can sense Naruto's chakra. It's altered, or disguised somehow—she's probably the only person who would detect it, but then again, she's spent half a lifetime watching him from the shadows.

Instead of panicking, Hinata's ninja training takes over. She crouches down in a defensive position, then flickers like a shadow through the crowd until she comes to the edge. She climbs up a staircase and conceals herself on the landing, then scans the room with her Byagukan.

It's the strangest thing—she can sense Naruto, but she can't pinpoint his location. Every time she gets close, her vision slides right off the trail, like water dripping off an oiled cloak.

It's Genjutsu. Only this time, no matter how Hinata pulls at the threads of the illusion, she can't break it.

Weary, Hinata leans her forehead against the cool concrete wall and sighs. At least Sasuke is doing his job well.

Byakugan still active, something catches Hinata's gaze. Isn't that…Kakashi-sensei? And…Yamato, of all people?! What are they—

Hinata looks away quickly, her cheeks burning. Everything becomes horribly clear.

Sakura and Ino have taken her to a gay bar.

Hinata sweeps her vision through the crowd, recognizing more and more chakra signatures. They are all disguised by genjutsu or henges, and some, Hinata can't see through—but most, she can.

All that training with Neji-niisan finally paid off, Hinata muses wryly. Though of course, the training had been to protect the Hokage—not to spy on him and his ANBU with their respective boyfriends. Hinata exhales hotly and shakes her head. She is going home. _Now._

But just as she turns to leave, rough hands shove her against the wall. The breath is knocked out of her.

"What do we have here?" Sour breath wafts across her face. She winces and her body goes stiff. "A little lady don't belong here." Hinata blinks, not recognizing the rough-hewn face looming above her—his chakra signature fits more with Cloud Village types.

Her throat constricts and her heart flutters with fear—she had been a child when kidnapped by the Cloud Village, and the nightmares still haunt her. But this is not the time or the place for fear, Hinata chides herself, forcing chakra into her palms…

* * *

_Thanks for reading and please, review:)_


	9. The Feeling is Mutual

Chapter Nine: _The Feeling is Mutual_

_..._

"_What do we have here?" Sour breath wafts across her face. She winces and her body goes stiff. "A little lady don't belong here." Hinata blinks, not recognizing the rough-hewn face looming above her—his chakra signature fits more with Cloud Village types._

_Her throat constricts and her heart flutters with fear—she had been a child when kidnapped by the Cloud Village, and the nightmares still haunt her. But this is not the time or the place for fear, Hinata chides herself, forcing chakra into her palms…_

_..._

"Aw, lay off Kiyo—she's pregnant," a second man whines, laying a restraining hand on his comrade's shoulder.

"Won't," Kiyo grunts, shrugging him off. "This little perv was spying on everyone here. It's supposed to be a safe club!" he grouses, turning back to Hinata. "We should teach her a—"

Hinata doesn't let him finish. A swift punch to the gut and a knee to the groin, then Hinata leaps back, landing on top of the railing. She crouches low in a defensive position, wary of the man's companion.

But before he can attack, a dark shadow swoops down like a hawk, coming between her and her assailants. A stranger's broad back is to her, and his arms are outstretched like a shield.

"Do you two morons want to create a diplomatic incident?" he growls. Hinata blinks blankly at the stranger's back. The chakra signature is foreign, but the voice—

The injured man staggers up from the floor and leers at Hinata. "That bitch—"

"Is the Hokage's wife, dumbass. Now do I need to smack sense into you, or can you leave—by yourselves?" Red light blossoms in the half darkness. The Cloud nin's faces take on a bloody hue.

The man who had initially protested Hinata's treatment grabs his companion and makes a mad dash down the stairs, stumbling and cursing all the way.

Hinata's mouth is dry, but she forces herself to say:

"S-s-sasuke-san?"

"Tch. I won't be able to use this henge anymore." He scowls, turning to face her at last. His eyes flash like garnets in an unfamiliar face. Hinata shivers.

"Th-thank you. F-for s-s-saving me."

Sasuke shrugs, then to Hinata's relief, deactivates his doujutsu. The landing is no longer bathed in menacing light. "You could have handled those bozos. But that would have started a riot." He exhales, a long hiss of air. "It would have been the end of this stupid club."

"O-oh." Hinata twiddles her thumbs.

Sasuke grunts, then banishes his henge. Hinata peeks up in time to see piercing green eyes and tawny skin dissolve like a film, revealing Sasuke's familiar facade. His black eyes are pits that smolder with rage; his dark hair is disheveled, framing a pinched, pale face, as white and cold as porcelain. Hinata can see why Sasuke has so many admirers, though he isn't her type.

"Come on," Sasuke says, his gruff voice breaking her out of her thoughts. "I'll walk you home." He takes her arm, but she pulls back.

"Is N-naruto…?" she asks, hesitant.

Sasuke's jaw muscle twitches. "He doesn't know you're here."

Her face falls. "But—"

"I hid your chakra signature with genjutsu. The fox hates these parties; he wasn't around, and he didn't care."

She blinks. That makes sense—a genjutsu would only work on Naruto if the demon fox was dormant—but that doesn't answer her half-formed question.

"But _why—_"

"Because," Sasuke snarls, barring his teeth, "the Moron would make a scene. Come on." This time, at Sasuke's insistent pulling, Hinata follows him—or really, is dragged after him—up the stairs.

"I th-thought the exit—"

"There's an emergency escape this way," he interjects. Hinata bites her lip. It looks like she will never finish a sentence, not while Sasuke is so irritated.

They finish the climb in silence. Sasuke opens the door and they emerge on the roof. The moon is full in a clear sky: everything is silvered. Hinata gazes at Sasuke, noticing how the light softens his features, though his eyes are still fierce.

"Are you m-mad at m-me, Sasuke-san?" Hinata asks, her voice quavering.

He scowls and sits on the roof's ledge. "That's a stupid question."

Tears spring to Hinata's eyes. She crosses her arms, hugging herself, and turns away, sniffing.

"Oh for the love of the gods," Sasuke shouts. "I'm not angry at you for being attacked by a bunch of drunken idiots."

"But y-you're angry that I'm h-here at all," Hinata replies, her back still turned to him.

Sasuke curses under his breath. "Well _obviously_ this is a men's club and you shouldn't be here. I'm sure Sa-ku-ra dragged you here—"

"Sh-she said Sai told her to come. Why w-would he say that if this was a…ah…gentleman's club?" Hinata dabbles at her eyes with her sleeve, finally turning to meet Sasuke's gaze.

He snorts. "Because Sai is an asshole. He likes to make people squirm—especially _me._"

"He's not—" Hinata protests.

"He is. Can we go now?" Sasuke asks, impatient. Hinata bites her lip and nods her head, too choked up to reply. Sasuke grabs her arm and they leap, roof-top to roof-top, their flitting shadows silhouetted by the silver moon.

When they've traveled several blocks, Sasuke leads her down to the street. He releases her, and circulation returns to her arm.

"I c-can walk the rest of the way by m-myself," Hinata mumbles.

Sasuke frowns and shakes his head. "It's only a few more blocks." He walks forward and gestures for her to follow. Suddenly, she feels like a child, or a dog commanded to follow its master. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she walks after him, her head tilted back so she can see the bobbing moon and the cold stars. It's a beautiful night. She wishes she was strolling with Naruto.

At that thought, a dark cloud descends over her. She bows her head and walks, hunched like an elderly woman.

"Listen," Sasuke says, stopping so abruptly that Hinata almost walks into him, "I'm not _mad _at you. Can you just—get over it?"

Her head snaps up. She regards him with a wide-eyed stare. So. That's why he thinks she's so upset. How self-centered of him.

She balls her hands into fists and squints up at him. "Sasuke-san," she blurts out, "do you hate me?"

Sasuke whistles lowly and rolls his eyes. "For making me walk you home? Tch." But Hinata continues to glare at him. He clears his throat. Shoves his hands into his pockets. "Oh. You mean..for marrying—"

"Yes."

"Ha. You probably hate me," Sasuke retorts, turning away from her.

Her anger deflates at that. "N-not at all!" she protests.

Sasuke eyes her over his shoulder. "Don't lie."

"I'm not! I don't hate you. I…" Hinata twists the hem of her sleeve. "…I mostly feel s-sorry for you."

He chuckles darkly at that and begins to walk again. "Well, Hokage's wife—the feeling is mutual."

Hinata sputters, standing still in the middle of the street. When Sasuke doesn't wait for her, she trots after him, staring at his back in disbelief.

He feels _sorry?_ For _her?_ What in the world is he talking about?

Fuming, nails digging into her palms, Hinata is so lost in her roiling thoughts that she surprised when they finally make it to her front door. Sasuke strides away and waves over his shoulder. Hinata, still stunned, does not say _thank you_ or _goodbye._

But just as Sasuke is about to turn the corner, she finds her voice again.

"Sasuke-san?" she calls. He pauses and eyes her askance. "Sasuke-san…how many people know about you and…" She trails off. The question is obvious: how many know about Sasuke and Naruto—_besides _herself?

Sasuke retraces his steps, saunters back up to the front door. He rubs the side of his face, as if searching for stubble.

"I think.." He begins, then trails off lamely, staring down at the ground. He clears his throat. "I think you'd be better off not knowing."

With that, he shushins away, leaving Hinata standing alone on her front porch, staring at the place where he used to be.

.

.

.

* * *

THE FEELZ! Lol:) Thanks for reading friends, and please, review:)


	10. Back Pain

ohmygosh I'm sorry about the late update. Please believe me that out of all the bazillion things I did the past two weeks, I would have rather been updating this fic. Seriously. Life. GAH.

A huge roarin' thanks to all my reviewers. I usually thank each and every one of my reviewer friends personally, but unfortunately, this week my husband ate up all of our bandwidth streaming cheesy sci-fi and horribly campy detective shows. You see, I'm on satellite internet (EVIL) which means that for an ungodly sum of money, I only get to use 20 Gigs of internet a month. Since I'm a web designer and my husband is a bad tv whore, this bandwidth had died. I basically have enough to post this chapter and bitch about my internet to you, LOL. So in short, THANKYOUSOMUCHILOVEYOU and I'll totally write to you next time:)

I seriously hope and pray that I will be able to update next weekend. The next chapter is an absolute riot. Just know I will feed your guilty fanfic craving as soon as I can.

Until then, enjoy chapter ten. (oooh, I rhymed. Sick.) :)

* * *

Chapter Ten: _Back Pain_

"Your pregnancy is coming along just fine, Hinata-chan," Sakura beams, putting away her stethoscope. It's amazing how cheerful Sakura is today. Most ordinary mortals, after imbibing that much sake the night before, would have been hungover for days. Sakura doesn't even have bags under her eyes.

"You're blood pressure is a tad bit high, though. Have you been stressed out?" Sakura turns her inquisitive green eyes to Hinata: they feel like spotlights.

"N-no, of c-course n-n-not," Hinata stammers. She takes a deep breath. "Everything is f-fine."

"You sure? Having any troubles at home? I know those boys of yours can be a handful…" Sakura chews her lip and taps her pen on the clipboard.

"N-no." Hinata swallows thickly. "N-nothing like that."

"Well, maybe it's your diet, Hinata-chan. Try to cut back on saturated fats and increase your consumption of fruits and vegetables. Okay?"

Hinata forces a smile. "Of course. I'll do my best. Will that be all?"

Sakura grins and tucks her clipboard under her arm. "Yep. Hey, it's my lunch break—you want to grab a bite?"

What Hinata really wants is peace and quiet. But she can't bring herself to say _no_ to Sakura, not after she's taken the trouble of doing her exam. "S-sure, Sakura-chan," Hinata answers, sliding off the table.

Half an hour later and Hinata finds herself at a sushi bar, Sakura on one side, Ino on the other. The smell of raw fish makes her nauseous, so she orders plain avocado rolls with extra pickled ginger. Just looking at her friends' platters sends her stomach roiling. The octopus tentacles look especially unappealing.

"So," Ino says around a mouthful, "how'd it go with handsome last night?"

Sakura smiles coyly and sips at her sake. "Well, he's no Sasuke-kun—" she slams down her cup and frowns. "But he's cute, and a good dancer. I know Sasuke-kun is my one true love…" Sakura sighs and leans her cheek on her palm. "But a girl can't be expected to wait around forever. Maybe it'll even make him jealous!" she squeals, her eyes twinkling.

"I don't think so," Hinata blurts out, absently pushing her food around her plate.

"Eh? Hinata-chan, why not?" Sakura whines. "I mean, everyone knows that Sasuke-kun and I are destined to be together. He just…ah…hasn't figured it out yet…"

Hinata almost chokes on her own spit while Ino rolls her eyes. "Like you said Forehead, you can't wait around forever for Prince Charming. I say try the new guy."

Sakura sighs heavily and pours herself more sake. "Yeah… Maybe. We'll see."

"Um… Um… Sakura-chan? D-did you m-meet him last n-night? At the c-c-club?" Hinata squeaks, suddenly going very red in the face.

"Oh yeah, totally," Sakura replies. "He's dreamy. Not as dreamy as Sasuke-kun of course—but still pretty cute."

Hinata squeezes her eyes shut. So Sakura has no idea what kind of club they went to last night.

Maybe she has a thing for gay guys.

Not that Hinata should judge, she thinks miserably, clutching her churning stomach. Just look at her excuse for a husband.

"Oi, Hinata-chan, are you okay?" Ino calls, leaning forward to peer at her. Hinata catches a whiff of Ino's breath—raw octopus and soy sauce with a hint of wasabi.

Without warming, Hinata throws a hand over her mouth and leaps out of her seat. She makes a mad dash to the bathroom, just in time to lose her meager lunch to the trash can.

#

She can deal with the nausea. She can deal with the aching feet. Even having to pee every five minutes isn't so bad.

What kills her is the back pain.

"Honey, are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor?" Naruto asks, massaging her back. Hinata turns away from him and winces: he's applying too much pressure, but she's too polite to say anything.

"I'll be f-fine, Naruto-kun," Hinata replies, forcing a smile. She gathers his hands in hers. "Don't worry about me. You'll be late for work."

"But—"

She kisses his fingers and stands up in one fluid motion from the couch. "Really. I'll be f-fine."

Naruto grins, kisses her on the cheek. "Just let me know if you need anything—_anything _at all_._ Okay?"

A light blush dusts Hinata's cheeks. She nods. "I will."

He gives her a quick hug—Hinata suppresses her groan of pain behind a taut smile—then he is gone.

Hinata sinks down to the couch once more, grunting and groaning, propping her feet up on the armrest. She doesn't understand—she never had this kind of back pain with the twins. Is something wrong? Hinata worries her lower lip with her teeth. Maybe she _should_ go back to see Sakura…

"Mama? Mama, I brought you a hot water bottle," says Minato.

Hinata is drawn out of her worried thoughts and beams at her son.

"Mom, I made you some breakfast," calls Jiraiya, balancing burnt toast and orange juice on a tray.

Hinata sits up slowly and receives her gifts with a chuckle. "What thoughtful children! I feel better already." Her sons bracket her on the couch while she nibbles the edible parts of the toast. Is it just her imagination, or does her back feel better already? Maybe Sakura was right—maybe she has been stressed out. But what should she be stressed out about? She's got great kids, a wonderful husband…

Hinata sips her juice and leans back. She should relax more. Maybe she should get a massage.

"Mama?" comes Minato's small voice. "Why does daddy dress up like a girl and play wrestling with uncle Sasuke?"

Orange juice shoots up Hinata's nose. Her throat and sinuses burn as she sputters. "I'm s-sorry," Hinata wheezes, "Wh-what…?"

Jiraiya pouts, "They use a really strong genjutsu. I wouldn't be able to get through it with just the Byakugan, but brother used his sensory technique to help me."

"Why doesn't daddy want anyone to know that he takes baths with Uncle Sasuke?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," huffs the other. "We take baths together all the time and _we_ don't use genjutsu."

"Yeah, and we're not allowed to wrestle in the tub, but daddy—"

"Y-you'll b-be l-late for s-school," Hinata interjects. Her stutter is so bad, she wonders if they can even understand what she is saying.

"But mom—" they whine in unison.

Hinata gives a sharp cry as her lower back goes out again. She writhes on the couch like a beetle that's been flipped over, limbs clawing the air. "J-just—go," she manages between clenched teeth.

The twins share a look.

"Are you going to be okay mommy?"

Hinata takes a deep, shaking breath. She wipes her clammy forehead with her sleeve. If she doesn't move for a little while, she'll be fine. She's sure of it. "P-please go to school. We'll discuss this—l-later."

"But mama, we're worried about you…" pouts Minato, tears springing to his eyes. Seeing him so distraught feels like a knife twisting in her heart. Despite the shooting pain, she takes the child's hand and squeezes it.

"It's okay, sweetie. Mama's going to be fine. I promise. Now please go to school. I'll see you later." She offers them a pained smile.

The twins shoot her one more worried look before kissing her on the cheek. "You mean you'll see us at the festival, right mama?"

"Mmmm," Hinata says, not really listening. She's not sure how much longer she can maintain a cheerful facade—the pain in her back is increasing. It's like being shot full of barbed arrows.

The twins stand there for one moment more before dashing out of the house, slamming the door behind them. Hinata hisses with relief as she lowers herself down, moaning until she finds a comfortable position.

Gods. They're only five, and they've broken a Jonin-level genjutsu—

And have seen their father dressed in women's clothing. With another man. In the bathtub.

The pain shoots along her entire spine, and Hinata cries out, flailing her arms. She feels like a beached whale. As soon as she can physically get off of the couch, she is going to march (waddle) right over to the Hokage's Tower and sit Naruto down for a talk. A _long_ talk.

Bur for right now, Hinata thinks, as she clenches her teeth and clutches her back, she needs to ride out the pain.

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Please review:)_


	11. Lack of Discretion

Sorry for the long wait friends. Work=:(. 'Nough said. As I'm going on vacation next weekend, far, far away from computers and cell phone reception (yaaaaaay) I thought I'd make this chapter extra long and extra delicious. Hope you enjoy it, and love to you all:)

* * *

_Chapter Eleven: Lack of Discretion_

Panting, Hinata leans on a building with one hand while supporting her lower back with the other. She pushes the sweat-matted hair out of her eyes and peers into the distance. Dismayed, she realizes that the Hokage's tower is still many blocks away.

With a grunt, she slides down to the ground and rests her back against the building. She should have just stayed at home, Hinata thinks with a sinking heart. But then, who knows when Naruto would have returned. Who knows what he would be doing—or _who_ he would be with—behind her back.

Hinata flushes at the thought, a mixture of shame and embarrassment running through her. It's not like her to even _think_ like this. She's glad Naruto is happy, she tells herself. At least one of them is.

Staring down at her swollen belly, Hinata sighs. She feels like a blimp. A very ungainly, painful blimp that has fallen from the sky and now sags against the hard ground.

"Yo…?"

Hinata looks up with a start to find Kakashi staring down at her, his one exposed eye blinking slowly.

She flushes. "Um…"

Without a word, Kakashi offers Hinata his hand. Her cheeks burning even hotter, she clasps his arm and he helps her to rise.

"Going to the festival?" he asks her in an even tone.

"F-festival?" Hinata looks up and down the street, as if for the first time: paper lanterns hang between every building; fire crackers pop and fizzle in the distance. She had been so distraught, she hadn't even noticed.

"Kami," she mumbles, twisting the hem of her stained sweatshirt, "I'm not even d-dressed." She looks up from her grubby house clothes into Kakashi's cycloptic stare.

"I sh-should go home—to ch-change," Hinata adds quickly, though she has no intention of attending the festival. She can't be seen like this in front of everyone: sweaty and bloated and dressed like a housewife.

"I'll escort you…"

"I'm f-fine. R-really."

He shrugs. "Of course you are. I'm just looking for an excuse to avoid Gai. Seriously, you'd be doing _me_ a favor."

Hinata toes the sidewalk and bites her lower lip. When he holds out his arm to her again, she is too flustered to refuse.

Too tongue-tied to think of small talk, she shuffles, arm-in-arm with a silent Kakashi. Even though he's not looking at her, she flinches away from him as if he were staring.

In truth, Hinata has never spent time alone with Kakashi; usually, Naruto will invite him over to dinner, or she'll share a word or two with him at events. That Kakashi has found her wheezing and collapsed on the street like a drunken homeless person makes Hinata's ears burn.

"Naruto should have taken you to the festival today," Kakashi muses at last, his voice startling her.

"Th-that's all right," Hinata replies thickly. "I wasn't f-feeling well."

"Then you shouldn't have been out by yourself."

Pause.

"Y-yes, that's t-true," Hinata replies, staring fixedly at the ground, "but I wanted to speak to him." She chews her bottom lip. "It's probably n-not very important though. You're r-right. I should have waited…" She blinks back tears, wondering if Naruto is with Sasuke right now—if he has taken him to the festival instead of her. At that thought, Hinata stumbles; Kakashi catches her arm and steadies her without comment.

"Kakashi-san," she blurts out, "I saw you with Yamato-san—at the club."

He stops dead in his tracks. "I'm sorry… What club…?" He smiles nervously.

Hinata clears her throat. "How long have you known—about N-naruto and S-sasuke?"

Kakashi's face turns green. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. "Listen… Hinata-chan… I don't—"

Hinata looks up at him with wide, shinning eyes. "No more lies," she whispers. "How many people know about…them. How long has it been kept a secret? From m-me?"

Kakashi releases her arm and staggers to a nearby bench. He sits down slowly. Hinata, with all the steadiness she can muster, sits beside him.

"In the ninja ranks," Kakashi says slowly, as if his mouth is full of marbles, "there aren't many women. It's not uncommon for men to find…er…shield-mates."

Feeling woozy, Hinata leans on the armrest. "Sh-shield-m-mates?"

Kakashi makes a sound half-way between a grunt and a cough. "Yeah."

"So you and Yamato are…and…" She trails off lamely.

"For men, there's an unspoken rule: never out your comrades. It's a…private matter."

"Even if it leads to infidelity," Hinata whispers. It's not a question.

There is a long pause.

"I guess…I guess most men don't see it like that," Kakashi replies at last. "A job like ours, death lurks behind every corner. Here today and dead tomorrow, with loneliness in between. Naruto and Sasuke…" Kakashi opens his fists then balls them again. "They've got a special bond."

Hinata looks down at her clenched hands. Her vision blurs. She blames it on the dust.

"It doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

Hinata hunches over, leaning her elbows on her thighs and staring down at her shoes. "I know," is her quiet reply. "It just…it still hurts."

It's the first time she's admitted to anyone—even herself—that she is upset about the situation. It feels good and terrible at the same time to say it out loud. A fat tear rolls down her cheek. Still slumped over, Hinata turns her head and catches Kakashi's worried glance. "But it's…normal?" she squeaks.

He averts his gaze and closes his eye. "I don't know about normal—but it's common."

She shakes her head. How naive she had been not to realize the truth all these years. The world of ninja is a man's world: though women are allowed to participate, they are never the story's main protagonists, in love or in battle. They are accessories: weak supporting characters, easily brushed aside.

Hinata pushes herself off the bench with the slow, halting movements of an elderly person. "I'll be going home now," she whispers, trying and failing to hold back her tears. "Th-thank you for walking with me, Kakashi-sensei." _Thank you for being the first person to tell me the truth,_ she adds silently, turning away from him.

Kakashi heaves a sigh and bounces to his feet. "Don't be silly," he says, placing a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder. Despite his cheerful tone, he sounds pained. Wounded. "I know an excellent kimono shop just around the corner—let's get you fixed up and then go look for your husband, no?"

"I…er…" Unable to articulate an intelligent thought, she shoots him a pleading look. With a start, she realizes that beneath his smiling veneer is guilt—she can tell from his bent shoulders, the way he rubs the back of his neck.

As if answering her thoughts, he takes her arm again and says, "I feel a bit responsible, Hinata-chan. As their sensei, I could have…well, served as a better example."

Hinata bites the inside of her cheek, then manages a weak half-smile. "I don't think it's your fault, Kakashi-sensei—"

"Ah look, here's the shop!" he interjects, opening the door for her. A cool air-conditioned breeze wafts over her, and despite herself, she is drawn forward.

#

"And you can send the bill to Hokage-sama," Kakashi says, waving cheerfully to the bowing clerk.

Hinata's mouth twitches into a smile. "I thought you were paying—"

"And my, don't you look lovely, Hinata-chan," Kakashi interjects with a grin.

Hinata hides her giggle behind her hand. She never goes shopping on Naruto's credit—the act makes her feel giddy. She gazes at her reflection in the full-length mirror once more: hair swept up into a simple bun, face lightly powdered, eyes and lips lined. She looks five years younger, Hinata thinks with a sigh.

The regal lines of the black kimono hide her curves without being too severe, while the silver brocade shimmers in the light, winking like stars. A fragrance box dangles from her sleeve, and when she move her arm, the delicate scent of jasmine and rose fill the air.

"That was very nice of you, Kakashi-sensei," Hinata says as the door jingles closed behind them. "Thank you."

"No problem, Hinata-chan!" Kakashi replies, shoving his hands into his vest pockets. "Just do me a favor, hm? Don't…er…tell Sakura about our little…discussion."

Hinata arches an eyebrow. "Don't you think Sakura should know the truth about Sasuke?" she asks in a whisper, incredulous. It looks like Kakashi just bought her a dress (at Naruto's expense, no less!) to continue lying to his student.

"Well, actually—the part about seeing me. At the club. With my—ah—friend." He rubs the back of his neck and mutters something about needing to brush up on his henges.

Relieved, Hinata smiles. So the teacher does not want to be embarrassed in front of the student! "It's no problem, Kakashi-sensei. Your secret is safe with me."

He exhales sharply. "Thank you—"

Just then, something large, green, and smelling strongly of body odor whirls towards them. "Ka-ka-shi!" Gai booms, flashing them a too-bright smile, "you haven't forgotten about our duck shooting contest, have you, my rival?"

Hinata tilts her head and regards Gai quizzically. "Duck shooting?"

Kakashi waves his hands, as if in defense. "It's a carnival game," he mutters. "I'm pretty sure no actual ducks are—"

"Come, Ka-ka-shi!" Gai interjects, his voice reverberating in the street. "There's no time to lose! I'm about to beat your score."

Kakashi spares Hinata a pained look. "I'm sorry Gai, but I can't. I was just escorting Hinata-sama to—"

"I'll be fine, Kakashi-sensei," she interjects with a mischievous grin. "I wouldn't want to impose on you and Gai-san."

"Oh, it's no imposition—" Kakashi beings, but it is too late. Gai shouts triumphantly, grabs Kakashi's arm, and drags him off towards the carnival games.

Giggling, Hinata strides forward through the lantern-lit streets. Maybe it's the new clothes or the perfume box, but Hinata feels more upbeat than she has in weeks. She's also feeling a bit more compassionate towards Naruto and Sasuke. She's sure there's nothing a gentle discussion won't do to resolve their lack of discretion.

With a dreamy expression, Hinata walks up to a horde of romping children and waves to her sons. Their smiles are wide and their cheeks are crusted with cotton candy as they sprint towards her.

"Don't touch the kimono!" Hinata calls as they raise their greasy hands to hug her. She laughs at their downcast faces and kisses each of them on their foreheads.

"Mama, you look so pretty!" beams Minato. "Are you feeling better?"

Hinata nods. "I am sweetie, thank you for asking. I was looking for your father—do you know where he is?"

Jiraiya answers, "He gave us money for food and games, but he left a long time ago. I don't know where he went."

Minato looks inward for a moment, then smiles up at his mother. "He went back to his office!"

She pats him on the head, amazed at how developed his sensory skills have become. "Poor papa, doing work when there's a festival. I'll go get him. You kids have fun with your friends!"

The twins wave to her as they run back to the group currently swarming the dango stand. Buoyed at seeing her beautiful children, and happy that she will find Naruto alone in his office, she practically floats through the crowd, smiling in contentment.

The noise of the festival fades as she enters the hush of the Hokage's tower. "Naruto?" she calls as she ascends the steps to the top floor, "Naruto-kun, are you there?"

"Hinata-chan?" comes the surprised reply. She hears the scrape of a chair and the thunder of footsteps, then sees Naruto himself bouncing in the doorway. "What time is it? Oh hey, you look awesome—what's the occasion?" Naruto asks breathlessly, as if he's just run a long distance.

"The summer festival," Hinata answers with a grin. "I'd almost forgotten about it too."

Naruto slaps his forehead. "Oh geez, I must have lost track of time, I'm so sorry I totally meant to stop home hours ago! Let me just—"

"Actually," Hinata interjects, "I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

"Here?" Naruto squeaks.

Hinata's brows knit in confusion. "W-well sure. Why not—" she breaks off suddenly when she hears a noise. It is a loud thumping sound. The hair on her arms rises. "Is there a-anyone else here?"

"Nope," Naruto replies, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Then what was—"

"Must have been the fireworks, babe! Come on," he calls, grabbing her arm and pulling her down the stairs. "Let's talk over dinner I'm starved you want to go get some ramen?" he asks, all in one breath.

Hinata blinks, grabs the railing, and forces him to come to a stop. "Naruto-kun," she asks, her eyes wide, her voice stern, "what's going on?"

"Going on? Nothing babe, I'm just hungry and really glad to see you is all!" he replies with a twitching smile.

Hinata has a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like someone in a dream, she frees her hand from Naruto's grasp and performs the familiar hand-signs.

"Byakugan," she whispers.

"Whoa, babe, what—"

"You're a c-clone," Hinata says in slow, sad, certain tones. "Where is the real Naruto?"

"Listen, sweetie, I can explain—"

"C-can y-you?" Hinata cries, tears blurring her vision. "I'm eight months pregnant, I've w-waddled all across town to see y-you, and y-you've sent a c-c-clone to deal with me!"

Now tears are pouring down her face, probably ruining her makeup. Normally, this would not push her over the edge. Today, it does. Something snaps inside of her, like a chord that's been pulled too tight for too long.

"I don't even know what to s-say," Hinata mutters, turning her face towards the wall. "You're probably with _him_ right now."

"Hinata-chan, come on, this isn't like you," Naruto protests, laying his hands on her shoulders. They feel like unbearable weights. "You know I love you—"

Hinata shrugs him off and whirls around to face him. "If you really l-loved me," she answers in a broken voice, "then you w-wouldn't do this to m-me."

"Do _what?"_ Naruto counters. It's his turn to get angry. "Gods, Hinata, I've been doing everything you've asked me to—I stay at home more nights than I used to, I buy you presents every week, I—"

"But h-how m-many t-times w-was th-that a c-clone?" Hinata interrupts, cursing her flustered stutter. She wipes the tears out of her eyes with her fist and blinks rapidly to clear her vision. "I had never thought to check before," she continues in a softer, calmer tone. "How many times was it a clone while the real you was with Sasuke?"

"Hinata—"

"No more l-lies," she whispers. "Tell me the truth."

Naruto sputters, huffs, then turns away from her with a scowl. "You never seemed to mind before," he mutters.

There is a pregnant pause.

Hinata can hear the blood roaring in her ears. The sound makes her feel like she is falling through a vast, cold darkness.

Trembling, she asks, "Wh-what d-did y-you s-say?"

Naruto gulps, realizing his mistake too late. "Hinata, baby, I didn't mean—"

He stops when he hears voices below.

"Hey!" comes Sakura's call, high and shrill. "Are you guys okay?"

Hinata sniffles and rests her cheek on the wall. The stone is cool against her hot face. A hush descends, and though Hinata knows that one of them should answer Sakura, neither of them do.

Sakura rushes up the steps, followed by a squad of ANBU. "Hey," Sakura asks, eyes wide with concern, "we could hear you guys shouting all the way from the square—is everything okay?"

"Yep. Fine. Just peachy," Naruto says with a fake smile plastered to his face.

"He's just a clone," Hinata rasps, as if to herself, her face still pressed to the wall.

Naruto laughs nervously. "You can all leave now. Hinata-chan and I were just—ah—having a disagreement! You know how married people are…"

But Sakura doesn't look convinced. "Hinata?" she asks softly, her lips pressing together in a frown.

It's not vindictiveness or rage that is behind what happens next: it is sadness. Weariness. A deep discontent. Without answering, Hinata stretches out her arm and, with the barest of chakra, pokes Naruto. He pops like a balloon and winks out of existence. "J-just a c-clone," Hinata whispers, eyes watering.

"Well, where's Naruto?" Sakura asks, confusion and worry tinging her voice.

Hinata sniffles and shrugs.

"Come on," Sakura orders the ANBU, "we're going in."

"I w-w-wouldn't—" Hinata begins, but no one listens to her. Sakura and the others file right past her.

Hinata knows she should stop them, but she can't. She feels like she's stuck in a horror movie: she knows what is about to happen, but she can't stop it. Her feet lurch forward, as if her legs have minds of their own, and despite her rising dread, she follows the ANBU to Naruto's office.

Sakura pounds on the locked door. "Naruto? Naruto, you moron, are you in there?"

"Just a minute!" comes his frantic reply. There is the sound of a window opening. Sakura looks at Hinata's tear-streaked face, then at the closed door. Comprehension dawns on her face.

"Na-ru-to!" she bellows, enhancing her fist with chakra. "Who's in there with you?" And before Naruto can answer, Sakura punches in the door with a sickening _thwack._

"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura gasps. "Is that my…underwear?"

Hinata blinks stupidly at the scene in front of her. Naruto is bare-chested and desperately trying to pull up his pants. Behind him, Sasuke crouches on top of the windowsill, as if he were just about to leap outside. He is wearing matching bra and underwear made of pink satin, complete with lace and tiny red hearts. His face, usually a stony mask of indifference, is taken aback in horror.

Some far-off, half-dreamy part of Hinata's brain registers two things:

One. Sasuke is also wearing a long pink wig, a pair of sequenced stilettos, also pink, and a pair of pink, heart-shaped earrings. Hinata is pretty sure that these things also belong to Sakura.

Two. In a weird way, she thinks that Sasuke looks rather attractive as a girl. It is a disconcerting realization.

Hinata blinks, coming back to reality, realizing that a terrible hush has fallen on the room.

"Those are _my_ clothes!" Sakura screeches into the stark silence, confirming Hinata's deductions.

One of the ANBU snickers and snaps a picture. The flash blinds Sasuke who falls, head-first, back into Naruto's office.

Hinata staggers forward. She's not really sure what she is doing. It's like moving in a dream. One moment, she is standing stupefied in the doorway and the next, she is in front of Naruto, gazing into his wide, panic-filled eyes.

Without a word, Hinata twists off her wedding ring and slams it down on the desk with a hard _clack_.

"Hinata?" Naruto croaks.

But Hinata has already shushined away. All that remains in her place are tears staining the carpet a darker red and crumpled petals from a white dahlia.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! If this chapter made you happy, please tell me so via your kind review:)_


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